Of Birds and North-Blues
by Doujin-Maker
Summary: "That man…" Marco watched Satsuki eye the back of his fellow mate. " – is evil."
1. Chapter 1

This plot.. ugh. I'm writing scenes for this story for three weeks straight since cooking this story up and it might be an obsession at this point.

Fair warning; it won't be pretty. It'll be gritty, desperate even cruel at times. I'm going all out on this one. There'll be a fair ammount of romance, though.

Well, enjoy. Hopefully.

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* * *

Samba Island was in full swing that evening. Being the middle of the summer it naturally meant the time for the annual dance festival was to come. The island was full of dancers; little children could fox-trot sooner than talk, teenagers waltzed around the street in pairs, adults cha-cha'ed from place to place. There was music everywhere and of every kind. People wore dance shoes, frilly skirts, penguin suits and their hair was always styled and slicked back. Everyone took great pride in being a Sambanian since all the world-renowned dancers, performers and choreographers came from here.

And above all ruled one thing; Samba. It was a sacred dance around the trajectory of this island.

In summary, newcomers were bound to die from a headache if they stayed longer than a day. And Satsuki has been around for twenty-four days already, she thought with a dip of anger prickling her skin. But tonight would mark the final hours of their stay. She needn't remind herself whom she was doing this for. If the little people managed to live through all those atrocious things she's discovered this island shoved into its black, heartless corners, then she could survive a meagre month within the culture of this island's people.

Shoving her black mask up her head and down the back of it, she felt her partner enter through the window.

"I hate this god-awful place." She couldn't agree more.

"Is everyone in place?"

"Yep."

"Were they briefed?"

"Yep."

"Anyone not supposed to, seen you?"

"Yep."

She raised an eyebrow at Kinpatsu. They knew each other since she was a newly appointed chunin and he a talented genin. Shi-sama thought they'd be a perfect tag-team since Kinpachi surpassed his classmates in speed and therefore could at least be trained to _speed_ up to her. The years before they were attuned to each other was a training in its own. Yet, Kinpatsu – despite his easy going nature and natural inclination toward shoving his head into clouds, was efficient, as was Satsuki. And in their line of work that meant they had a lesser chance of dying because of their own stupidity and carelessness.

She pointed at her eyes with the help of her pointer and middle finger and with a move directed them toward his own set of globes of wet flesh.

"Head in the game, Kinpatsu." He scratched his head.

"Sorry."

Satsuki took a look at the position of the sun. "We have half an hour. Entrances must be closed. If one of the flipped remembers his non-existent conscience and leaves an opening, we'll face the pirates who docked in for the festival."

Kinpatsu nodded, his seriousness taking a stand on his facial expression. He moved his mask over his head, only visible assets – his blue eyes. Then he vanished.

Satsuki prepared for her own role and she had to admit her plan was strangely vindictive. But they deserved it, she made herself remember. People who moulded then sold slaves – children – deserved a slow, painful death.

* * *

Marco sneezed.

Rubbing his pointer along the downside of his nose, he concluded the gut feeling he relied on so often wasn't wrong this time, either. It was easy to believe otherwise, if he took into account the easy smiles and tingles of laugh the citizens of Samba Island released, the festive mood around the whole island made everyone giddy with excitement. Which wasn't uncommon when it came to the territory pops took under his wing.

Islands under the silent protection of Whitebeard had a comfortable life. No one trifled with them safe for some suicidal wannabe's or seriously un-hinged super-powered. Whitebeard's fleet crushed them like the dirt under his feet. He took pride being one of them, which was plainly visible thanks to the big tattoo screaming his affiliation for the whole world to see.

The gut feeling worsened.

"Marco, you're even _aloofer_ than usual." Said Thatch, grinning at his own word-play.

"It's not a real word, though." Speed Jiru remarked from under his fez and munched on his tamagoyaki heartily.

"Those are the funniest words to use!" Replied Thatch, hands on hips and laughing loudly, gaining the attention of passer-by's.

Marco stopped and looked into the distance, the calm was surely a bad premonition.

"Hm?" Speed Jiru licked his fingers, already finished with his snack.

"There's a storm coming."

Thatch shielded his eyes from the sun and looked at it intently. A moment passed where each was in his own head, drawing separate conclusions.

"Nah. You're just superstitious." That's head lolled to the side, eyes unimpressed and right hand, palm up, on the same level as his middle.

"Listen." Speed Jiru whispered, eyes focused in the direction before them.

A man, clearly in great distress was running at his utmost speed. His eyes were frantic, unfocused, arms pumping, trying to give his body an extra push. When he saw them, something akin to relief flooded his features. He skidded to a halt, falling down and landing on his knees before them. He bowed his brown head, hands clasped straight and begged.

"Please safe me, Whitebeard pirates! They want to kill me!" The last part was screeched, making Marco's ears twitch. The man's eyes were forced shut, he was sweating – not from fatigue but from a deeply-rooted fear for his life. The badge on the left side of his chest told the three he was the major. Now, taking a second look, it was clear why running was hard for him. The man had a big stomach which was stuffed in fancy clothes – a penguin coat swirling behind him.

"Who?" Thatch asked, raising his thick brow.

The man stared at them, pupils dilated and shook with unadulterated fear.

"Th – Th –_They're_– " A load gurgle emitted from his throat and three set of eyes widened. A sword was pierced clean through the major's heart, blood splurging from his mouth, his front covered instantly in red blotches. A second later the life left his eyes and he fell forward with a silent thump. His face forever frozen in shock.

Immediately, all eyes focused on the lone figure walking languidly down the road, the wind shifting, because Thatch's and Marco's haki broke free. Their faces dark with anger, Marco's body erupted in flames and he attacked at the speed of light, appearing behind them. His transformed foot would have slashed them clean in half – but it never made contact. Marco realized Thatch faced a similar problem, sword inches from the perpetrator's stomach, his muscles straining and a vein throbbing at his forehead, as he battled the invisible power holding their blows back.

Both withdrew and stood on opposite sides of the person who was clad in the deepest shade of black they'd ever seen. Only visible thing were the eyes that were somehow focused on both of them.

"You have some gal, killing the major of an island protected by Whitebeard." _Right in front of us_ went unsaid. Thatch spit on the ground.

The person didn't respond.

Marco grinned ferociously. "Let's not waste our breath and dispose of that piece of trash swiftly, yoi." Changing places unseen for an untrained eye, they attacked from different angles. Thatch's sword attacking the legs, Marco kicking at the head.

Again, their blows didn't connect.

"Tch." Thatch sounded annoyed. Marco didn't fault him, he felt the same way.

The way they attacked so forcefully; it wasn't so much that someone killed a person in front of them – they wouldn't have that kind of reaction on some unnamed island, facing the death of an innocent man. Fact was; this was not an unnamed island; it was Whitebeard territory. Their territory. And that vermin killed someone under Whitebeard's mantle. In front of them. They had a death wish and Marco felt a sudden urge to stake their head and shove it on a pike as a warning to others.

He felt especially ruthless today.

Speed Jiru's eyes flashed as he took the opportunity and attacked while they were being held back by the unrelenting energy. Another figure intercepted his attack – sending him off course and he landed with a grunt, but on sure feet.

"Attacking taichou sneakily like that, how honourless." The man, if his muffled voice was anything to go by, also clad in black, replied, tilting his head. Body moving into a fighting stance, twirling sharp objects threateningly.

"Honourless?" Speed Jiru asked, face angry.

"_Honourless_? Us?" Thatch's voice boomed with loathing. "You were the ones who killed an innocent man!" He screamed, jumping back and striking again. This time, the figure attacked; straightening their hand. Thatch was propelled through a house – crashing the wall in the process. Marco took the chance and sent golden beams, his wings propelling them forward. The figure turned to look at him and disappeared. He was surprised to not have seen them move. It was as if they just transported away.

He felt the presence behind him and let his feathers assault them in their sharp form. The person appeared in front of him before his projectiles hit their mark and he realised – it was a woman. And that didn't surprise him at all – female warriors were nothing if not as powerful as some men.

Yet, their physique was still at an disadvantage when it came to male anatomy. And he'd take _full_ advantage of it. The way Marco saw it, if it weren't for the force which she undoubtedly commanded – she'd be long dead, lying in a pool next to the man she killed herself.

How fitting.

"Innocent?" The man who was obviously more interested in talking to them than his _taichou_ – Marco didn't let it slip his notice – hissed.

"Silence." The woman's voice carried over to her partner and he obeyed, face closing off as Speed Jiru launched one of his speed dance attacks. He was from Samba island, 's why he tagged along in the first place, and he felt it was his duty to avenge the major.

_Puru-puru-puru-puru-puru -_

Marco heard the transponder snail yet paid it no mind as he fiercely attacked the woman. Her right hand answered it and he felt annoyed by her easy dismissal of him. It was easier for him to nick her in the side before she avoided in a twirl. She held her side, looking at the wound.

He didn't let her rest, his talons launching kicks which would have made any other person lose their skin. She slid harshly backward, clearly surprised by the tracks she left in the dirt.

Good. He was just getting started.

"_Mission's over, let them be_." Someone spoke just as Thatch threw a haki infused punch at the woman, her elbow blocking it, wind slashed from the force. On further inspection though, Marco saw the twitch of her elbow that was blocking Thatch's fist. And they'd not make it any easier for her. Launching more golden missiles, this time fused with armament haki, he watched with delight as she grunted.

"We're leaving." She calmly stated, the other participant of their battle appearing in front of them and throwing a bomb.

Marco sneezed from the horrible stench and reaction it caused his nostrils. He realised with a forlorn face that it was sneeze-gas. He cut through it, though the second his attention wandered and the additional second the gas – somehow diffusing his observational haki, clouded their eyes made him loose his targets, they disappeared.

"Damn it!" Thatch slammed the ground, cracks appearing. He continued to do so until Marco's feet appeared in front of him.

"We'll get them, yoi. Meanwhile, let's contact pops." His calm face didn't fool Thatch, his usually lethargic eyes showing the same bloodlust he no doubt showed, as well.

Without further ado, Speed Jiru dialled the snail. A _kachang_ after connecting them to their captain.

* * *

"_Wooof_, they sure packed a punch." Kinpatsu massaged his wrist from his perch on their clay-bird. Looking into the distance, Satsuki agreed. Then, after a moment, an annoyed expression crossed her features. She underestimated them, her bruise on the stomach and side-wound evidence of her inadequacy.

"Taichou, they were Whitebeard's commanders. You know, I'd say it was a win either way. The fact we're out of it alive only proves our efficiency." She was, again, surprised to hear the wisdom Kinpatsu rarely managed to spout.

"We didn't win." She stated blatantly. Kinpatsu fisted his hair.

"Three Whitebeard commanders!" He screamed, trying to bring his point across.

Satsuki shrugged. Kinpatsu groaned.

Watching the sun set from her perch on the head of the bird, Satsuki already knew what would happen next. Upon their return to Shinokuni they'd be greeted by the mission-dispatcher and informed that Shi-sama wanted to see them. Then, he'd admonish them for letting one of their targets loose – inadvertently failing and managing to upset one of the major forces of the New World.

Her pride pricked but she let it sunk in.

They'd be expected to apologize.

* * *

Satsuki sat across their Shikage, itching to lower her head and show him appropriate respect. She focused on the coup of tea, air fuming.

"Whatever did that cup do to you to make you glare so fiercely at it, hm?" Shikage-sama raised his own, slowly slurping his beverage. They were in his study in the Kage tower which dubbed as his private home and public office. He commanded everything from this strategically placed building. Satsuki didn't answer.

"You know," The man still had his eyes closed. Satsuki admired him from the bottom of her heart. She would do anything for him. She does everything for him, never going against him. Some might say this blind trust was foolish and made her biased but she knew in her hear, this man – the Shikage, their leader always took care of his people and placed them first.

That's why she followed him. That's why she will always follow him. Protect him, just.. She pursued her lips, eyes glazing over, fists clenching into the material of her pants.

Just like he did back then.

" – you didn't fail. Our intel did." He lowered the cup and Satsuki thought that even his appearance was admirable. He had golden eyes, the blackest kind of wavy, chin-length black hair – never whitening despite his sixty-nine years of life and a body-build that could rival the biggest men.

"I didn't win."

He raised a heavy eyebrow, eyes wide. The Shikage leaned down, hands on thighs.

"You couldn't, Satsuki. If you did, we'd face the full force of Whitebeard's fleet right now. Secondly, you fought three commanders. What did you expect - a walk in a park?" The Shikage admonished. Satsuki lowered her head. "We didn't expect three commanders to appear. We shouldn't have to, two being a rare sight to spot."

"On another note… I congratulate you." He showed her one of his fatherly smiles. "You stood your ground. I have taught you well." Satsuki swore she saw her beloved Shi-sama sit straighter but surely must have been wrong. The thought of pride.. Of Shi-sama being proud _of her_. She'd cry if it was true and it would be absolutely unsightly.

"You still need to apologize though." Shi-sama changed the subject, taking a sip, unperturbed. Satsuki nodded.

" I – "

"You will go to their ship as an apology. I on the other hand, will call Whitebeard." He chuckled. "It's been a while since we heard each other." Satsuki nodded again and after she was dismissed and exited the room, slumped against a far-away wall. Her head thumped against the stony wall.

She fucked up.

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Puru-puru-puru-puru -

_Kachang_

"Took you long enough." Whitebeard's gruff voice answered the call. Marco stood next to him, Thatch, Izo, Jozu and Ace standing in various spots across his spacy room.

"Edward." A sturdy voice greeted, den-den mushi's face neutral.

"Are you looking for a fight, old friend?" His pops asked, Marco saw the seriousness etched into his face. There was a momentary silence.

"We received one of our requests." The man started. Marco heard him take a sip from something. " – it was from a travelling dancer, on Samba island for a competition." Now, he heard a crunch. "She told us something abhorring." It stopped.

"The higher ups of Samba Island were supposedly trafficking children from over five islands, selling them. Forcing them to physical work in gold mines. Using them as slaves, too." The mood grew strenuous. Marco wanted to disagree – there was little chance this was true. The island was Whitebeard territory and – he stopped his next thought. Safe. Whitebeard territory.

No one would suspect anything.

"I sent my best tag team and they confirmed it." The air in the room shifted.

"It's _my_ territory." Whitebeard spoke.

"I know."

"You and your annoying ways." Tutted Whitebeard. Shinokuni was an island of Shinobi. Ninjas. Their island was of unknown origin. Someday, a hundred years ago, they just appeared and no one knew before it was too late. Their fighters were exceptional, trained to a T.

And they didn't let it go to waste.

They had missions. Some – they got paid for. Others were pro-bono. Shinobi, well, the Shikage established them to help the world, seeing as a lot of criminals were taking advantage of the marines inadequacy at handling crime.

The marines tried to put them in a bad light, angry with their meddling, but they got out on top each time. Stroke of luck not lessening.

They had a system. Transponder snails – undetected ones, as well as specially trained seagulls were scattered across the world. They received messages and the shinobi responsible for receiving them and organizing into a prioritized manner, distributed assignments. They made sure to investigate before acting. Trained in self-discipline and accuracy. Mind as sharp as their weapons.

"I guess.. I owe you." Marco's eyebrow raised, the others shifted from their position. Doused by the words. Pops was letting it go? Just like that?

Well, they did help. If it was true.

"The children still need to be taken in." Whitebeard's eyes closed and Marco automatically deduced that if there indeed were children to help, they'd have their proof.

"We'll handle it from here."

"Hm." There was that sipping sound again. "I'll send a convoy, as a formal way of apology." Whitebeard chuckled.

"Always so formal, no wonder you never wanted to be a pirate. You wouldn't know what to do with all that freedom!" Whitebeard's trademark laugh echoed. The den-den mushi's mouth turned into a smirk.

"See you, Edward."

The call disconnected.

* * *

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	2. Chapter 2

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* * *

Kinpatsu sighed, accepting everything begrudgingly. They were supposed to leave tomorrow for Whitebeard's ship. Despite the good things they did. To apologize. He snorted as he took a swig from his beer.

It wasn't their fault yonko's took territories and then lost control of them. They had so many, it was no wonder people drifted into criminal activity. The islands were guarded from the outside world but everything rotted on the inside. Appointed officials using their power for self-satisfaction, gratification and profit.

People were evil.

Good, too. But good people sure didn't give them half as much trouble as the bad ones. Barely at all.

"You shouldn't be drinking this short before departure." Satsuki slid easily into the stool next to him. Damn, he admired her. Taichou was always accepting of everything, bouncing back from each blow like nothing happened in the first place. Not just physical ones either, ego wounds counted, too.

Kinpatsu sighed again.

"It's just… disappointing." He admitted, sullen.

He watched as Satsuki motioned a finger and beckoned the bartender – old Ieasu, with eager eyes. She requested orange juice.

For someone so utterly serious, stony faced and devoted to their cause to a fault – she cracked him up sometimes. Orange Juice. In a bar. She had silly sides, too.

Kinpatsu didn't dare laugh, though. He saw and knew too much about her to disrespect her like that. He admired her. Ever since she beat him back then, all those years ago.

_Blonde hair shone in the sunlight as a boy, no older than twelve, made his way toward a gate. The training grounds. Shifting his arms down from their perch behind his head, he frowned._

_Was that old man going senile? Why the heck did he summon him here, there was no one where he supposedly was to meet someone. His new partner. He tch'ed and scurried the dirt away. How stupid, he – the fastest among his pals and faster than chunin was paired up with one. What a joke._

_"Kinpatsu?" A voice from in front of him spoke and he startled. _

_"Wh – Who are you?" He didn't feel her appear at all!_

_The girl tilted her head, regarding him with no-nonsense eyes and pointed to a tree. She was telling him she'd been watching him all this time. _

_"Are you making fun of me? I'll let you know, I'm the fastest 'round here!" He swirled and was filled with satisfaction when he realized he's reached her back and she still didn't move. His hand reached out and he wanted to shove her, only for the appendage to be roughly caught by the wrist and together with the rest, shoved unforgivingly into the ground. _

_He didn't see her move._

_Kinpatsu was so surprised he stilled from under her. Sprawled on his stomach, arms and legs jutting out and dirt on his teeth. _

_"Hmm. Shi-sama was right. You're quick." She stood without making a sound and crouched in front of him._

_She bested him!_

_He was on his feet not a second later and swung his arm at her. The girl moved minimally to the right, dodging. And she wasn't even taking him seriously!_

_"Yes. You'll do just fine." She stood and put her arms on her hips. _

_"What're you talking about? Stop belittling me!" _

_"Kinpatsu." _

_He shut up and realized the Shikage stood a couple of feet in front of him. Right hand on a well-crafted pipe._

_"This is your taichou from today onward. You're going to train, then accomplish missions together." He delivered with finality. Kinpatsu, still reeling from being shot down so easily, strained his muscles and yipped uncharacteristically back._

_"Why?" He asked. "And why she's the taichou?" He pointed a finger at the girl. She wasn't much older than him, damn it. The Shikage hummed._

_"Best her if you wish and the title will be yours." With that their leader turned away and vanished. A single leaf landing where he's just been standing._

_"Satsuki." He saw her arm extend and motioning for a hand-shake. He slapped the hand away – or would have, if she hadn't moved it back sooner. Damn, she annoyed him._

_"What rank are you?" He snapped, wanting her to say it aloud._

_"Chuunin." She answered calmly, looking at a spot on her left. She didn't even pay full attention to their conversation!_

_"I'm genin but rest assured; I'm going to strip you of your higher title and position in no time at all!" He screamed, pointing at her._

Damn, he's been a brat back then.

Kinpatsu took in Satsuki's form and couldn't help the smile. He's never won against her, despite always demanding and getting more and more re-matches. She evaded him gracefully, always a step ahead of him. It infuriated him back then. She was his rival. Until…

He gazed at the wall.

_Kinpatsu shook with exhaustion. He was panting fiercely, being pushed back and back by the pirate crew that he was supposed to take care of on his solo-mission. The one he demanded of the Shikage. _

_The one he was now failing epically. _

_He grunted as a sword made contact with his arm, jumping back he punched a pirate into unconsciousness. There were just too many. And some used haki. A shadow loomed above him and he knew without doubt he'd take the full burn of the attack, his own haki not yet developed enough to disarm it._

_He felt his body being jerked back and propelled a few feet away. He didn't feel the impact._

_"Are you alright?" A familiar voice asked. His blue eyes opened and he was surprised to see the one person he desperately didn't want to face._

_"What's it to you?" He saw the pirates groan in pain and realized they were all lying on the ground, beaten. _

_"You're my teammate. Of course I care." _

_Huh?_

Yep, from that moment on, there were tiny shifts in their dynamic and Kinpatsu found himself, at some point, less annoyed and more in awe of Satsuki's strength. The awe wasn't there so soon, though. He butted heads with her more than once even though she's saved his ass on more than one occasion. In their earlier days. They grew attuned to each other with time and he caught up, yet, until this day, he was still a good couple feet behind her.

"Pour your pride and disappointment down the drain." He registered her words and they didn't faze him anymore. Her brash attitude? He appreciated it now.

"Taichou's so serious." He smiled into his glass, ending his drink and released a loud breath. "That was nice!" He saw a small upward lift of her lip. He also could read her like no other.

"We move out at dawn." She finished her own drink and stood, waiting for him to join her. They left together and Kinpatsu couldn't help but feel teary-eyed. She always treated him like an equal. Despite everything, she did not belittle him nor mock his inadequacy in the face of her clear superiority.

They had each other's backs, were the extensions of the other's limb.

And they loved each other fiercely, as siblings. Blood was strong indeed, yet didn't stand a chance against their own, unique bond.

* * *

For many of Whitebeard's fleet, it would be the first time meeting face-to-face with people referred to as Shinobi from Shinokuni. They didn't know what to expect; would their ship have a jolly roger? Would it be made from wood? Would it be black? Their clothes – was it to be the rumoured ruthless black they've heard about? Would they even get a peek of the nameless individuals under the heavily-guarded garments?

So many questions. And now, they got a part of their answer.

A shriek made all eyes go up. Around half a mile from them was a bird, which cast an admirable shadow over the ocean; it was no novelty. What, however, made everyone stiffen was the fact that it was unhealthy white. And to trained eyes it did not appear to breathe nor move safe for the superficial flap of wings as to not let its cargo drop.

And what cargo indeed.

Atop of it stood around five people; their nightshade black jumpsuits already visible and a ghastly contrast to the otherwise lively weather and atmosphere. They watched them jump down – to the shock of many, and land on sure feet.

On the ocean. On water.

On the water of the damn ocean. Marco felt annoyed whereas Whitebeard chuckled.

_"Their ways are a secret to many and known to few."_ His pops mentioned back when he came to the conclusion that the duo who's killed Samba Island's major were, in fact, Shinobi.

_"Easy sway of their attacks, black clothes. Uncommon techniques..." Whitebeard repeated Marco's description. He wished he could see his pops now. He'd be able to gauge their next course of action._

_"She must've eaten some sort of devil fruit that messes with gravity." Thatch said, one arm horizontal the other perched atop it and hand on his face in an L manner. He looked thoughtful._

_"No devil fruit."_

_Thatch's head snapped up, eyebrow high. "What? That's impossible – "_

_"Anyone heard of the Shinobi Island?" There were collective murmurs, the commanders in his chambers surely wondering aloud._

_"Wanokuni?" Asked Speed Jiru._

_"Wanokuni is the island of Samurai." Whitebeard corrected. "Most confuse them with ninjas, too. People couldn't be more wrong, since both types of warriors couldn't be more different if they tried!" Whitebeard's laugh echoed, the den-den mushi's mouth stretched wide._

_"Where's that Shinobi Island, then?" Thatch asked, impatient to hunt that pair down._

_Whitebeard grinned. "Haven't been there in some time."_

_How could his pops be this laidback at a time like this? He felt angry for him, why wasn't he angry, too? Some outside force went ahead and messed them up and pops wasn't even fazed. _

_"Don't look at me like I'm some old fool, brats." The commanders, of course, negated that statement but Marco couldn't bring himself to come back to the present. He was still reeling. _

_"They must have had a reason for what they did." Whitebeard thumped his naginata against the floor of his cabin. "If they don't, we fight." He ended ruthlessly._

Marco felt like sighing. This was such a drag, and he had to stand still and watch. In the end, they did have solid reasoning. The island was indeed trafficking children, he was the one commanding the search for them and found the kids in various states of disarray.

Hungry, famished, beaten black and blue, over-worked, deathly pale, tired, alone. It was a horrible image. Whitebeard's nurses and he, as well, went immediately to work, healing the most horrid cases. Now, they were safely tucked away on one of their peaceful islands in the Calm Belt and being cared for.

He brought his focus back on the closing in outsiders. Peace or not, he wouldn't let his guard down. There was too much at stake, an image of his pops coming to mind.

The group of shinobi approached their ship slowly; as to not spook the dozens of pirates on Whitebeard's ship. After around five minutes they were close enough to let the ropes down, only for Whitebeard to stop the men.

The mates were confused. Weren't they supposed to come abroad? While they wondered with raised brows and confused looks, Marco saw the group move in a swish and he tensed when they appeared in various poses atop their deck; in front of their pops!

"Everyone gather!" Some shouted.

"Stop them from getting to Whitebeard!" Others added.

"Protect pops!" Many screamed, dashing to their captain.

"Gurararara!" Whitebeard released a laugh and everyone stopped what they were doing. Everyone besides the group of five; who weren't doing anything to begin with the second they landed on deck. Upon further inspection, Marco realised they looked relaxed; not at all battle ready. Yet, he took care to look the same and therefore knew people like them could change their actions in an instant. He walked closer to Whitebeard, crossing his arms protectively.

"We came to apologize." The same voice Marco heard snap a command back on Samba island spoke. The authority didn't change one bit and it annoyed him. The woman clearly had some nerve; putting up an attitude on his ship. The only difference was; now he could put a face to the voice.

She was clad in a simple sleeveless, blue turtleneck, black pants and black sandals. What surprised him however, was her hair; it was gold. Rich, a little wavy and no doubt sturdy. It cascaded down her back, not one hair out of place and swayed gently. It shone in other colours, he could detect lilac, yellow and white. He'd no idea people could have sparkly hair but that woman pulled it off.

'_Huh. What a contrast to her black soul, yoi._'

The man standing next to her; green, short-sleeved shirt, blue pants, same sandals, eyed everyone uncomfortably around them. Marco took a wild guess but he'd wager the chap was the same one that gave Speed Jiru a run for his money. Noting his comrade eyeing him too and seeing Speed Jiru clench his fist – blood no doubt boiling, it was clear he came to the same conclusion.

There was a momentary silence only interrupted by the seagull flying over their heads.

"Gurararara! What do you want to apologize for? You saved children! That's something worth having a banquet for!" Whitebeard's voice boomed at the end, a cheer erupting amidst the crowd – seeing the tension gone from their captain they already felt excited at the notion of a party.

The woman who stood in the middle of the formation approached Whitebeard and kneeled in front of his pops. Marco couldn't help the smirk that broke free. Thatch mirroring it. Their eyes communicated the same thing;

_Serves her right._

"We ask that you move your festivities to Shinokuni, Shirohige-san. We would be honoured to have you as guests there." Whitebeard grinned.

"What're you saying, brats? Want to visit the legendary land of Shinobi?" He screamed, demanding an answer. An instant chorus of yes'es broke free. The woman stood, dusting off her kneecaps and Marco took great delight in the discomfort she surely must feel. A woman like that had a natural affinity for pride.

* * *

"Three days, eh." Kinpatsu joined her at the back of the Moby Dick. It was night and she was leaning against the railings, dreaming about going atop their bird and flying back home. She felt like sighing.

Not only because she was chained to this ship until they reached Shinokuni but also because of the people on it. Especially the blonde-haired first commander. Her head lowered minimally as she remembered their conversation.

_Satsuki forced herself to mingle in the crowd, she tried to appear to be doing just that but was in truth only walking from one spot to the next, avoiding any human contact. _

_"Why're you and that guy wearing common clothes when the rest wears standard black?" Unfortunately for her, she was bound to get in the vicinity of someone who asked questions. Like this guy. _

_"We wished to show appropriate respect." Shi-sama ordered them but it wasn't something she wanted to share. _

_"Hmm." The brown haired man – yet Satsuki noted he looked more like a teenager, clad in a green ruffed outfit hummed, no doubt wondering about whether or not she spoke the truth._

_"Oh, Marco." He greeted the person who was watching her like a hawk ever since she got in reaching distance of his subordinates. She knew he could have been more discreet about it and not so openly hostile. He was rude._

_Despite the fact they apologized. Despite the fact they helped them. Despite the fact they were keeping shut about Whitebeard's embarrassing fail._

_"Haruta, yoi." Fuchisho Marco stopped next to her, arms crossed and legs apart. He was heavily build – all muscles and tallness. No wonder she had a hard time fighting him. Yet, she didn't lift boulders for the fun of it. She was strong herself._

_"You're not drinking?" Haruta – Satsuki now put a name to the face, asked. Marco shook his head and she felt his gaze on her when he replied._

_"Gotta be on high-alert." Satsuki felt disrespected. Had she wanted to attack them, it would've happened before they got their sights set on her._

_"Haruta, c'mon!" Someone called the shorter man and he disappeared into the crowd with a final nod. Satsuki and Marco stood silently next to each other. The silence stretched on, she didn't care though._

_"You're just going to stand around and say nothin', yoi?" She heard the falcon say. She dubbed him as such in her head ever since she saw his bird form. Or perhaps after their fight. Yes, definitely. It was her unique way of coping with the unfished battle. A draw, she thought bitterly._

_"Is there something for me to say?" Satsuki glanced at the man and she barely managed to withhold the flinch. His jacket was an eye-whacker. Bright as heck. _

_"Why don't you ask the dead major?" Satsuki crossed her arms in a rare display of uneasiness. She wasn't wired to chat people up, hold a civil conversation with a rival crew. She was a bigger fan of assassinations than this current 'talk'. They, at least, didn't require of her to butter the target up. _

_This wasn't a civil talk though and he wasn't a target. The first division commander was trying to provoke her._

_"I didn't know you lot held this strong onto grudges." _

_"Tends to happen when you kill a person in front of us, y'know?" Despite the oppressive air, Marco – Satsuki thought, seemed to be at ease. He was looking around, eyes not at all focused on her. She knew though, that if she were to attack, he'd intercept any blow she might throw at him. And he'd take it as an open invitation to finish what they started._

_"You're all so emotional."_

_"And you're cold hearted, yoi."_

_"Pussy." She kind of wanted to shove her hand in front of her mouth and gasp. And then slap herself. Satsuki had a steely grip on her emotions, this word that just exited her mouth? It was supposed to stay locked in her head. She saw Marco's head whip in her direction, a glare._

_"Say again, yoi?" _

_And there went the last civil part of their conversation. Still, Satsuki was stubborn and if it wasn't Shi-sama she was facing, then she'd sooner take a punch to the gut than admit she's been wrong. When it came to her personal life, that is. She couldn't help but feel riffled by this man._

_Doing damage control, she turned and walked away. _

"We must show them respect and lead them home." Satsuki came back to the present and heard Kinpatsu groan.

"Still… this ship. It's slower than our usual means of transportation." They either ran on water or flew on the superficial bird, currently perched atop Whitebeard's ship. Which was way quicker than their current means of transportation.

"Oi, oi, I wouldn't go accusing us of slowness." The pompadour haired man sneaked up on them and walked lazily over.

"It's slower than us, though." Kinpatsu argued. She shoved him in the gut.

"Ouch!" He yelped, coughing.

"We apologize." Satsuki replied with a straight face.

"Seems to me you do that awfully a lot, lately." She let the jab slide and turned back to the ocean, dreaming about jumping down and sprinting away from here. She'd rather kick herself in the butt than let someone get under her skin a second time that day.

She was as penetrable as a wall, Thatch thought. She'd stuff her pride into her pocket if it was an order, if what he saw earlier as she apologized to pops was anything to go by. And for that, Thatch respected her.

He had to remind himself that she actually helped, not harmed them. If word about what went on behind closed doors on Samba island came out, Whitebeard would look like a fool. Thatch knew for a fact these Shinobi wouldn't use it as blackmail – his pops wouldn't have agreed to sail to them otherwise.

"I think it's time we should let bygones be bygones." Thatch stretched his hand out to shake hers. She eyed it carefully and after fighting what appeared to be an internal struggle, straightened and clasped the hand in her own.

"Let's eat something!" Thatch cheered, face happy and pushing Kinpatsu toward the kitchen.

"Ah, wait! T- Taichou – !" He whimpered, not at all sure what his next course of action should be. Satsuki waved.

"Have fun." She cheered fakely, elated to sit out on that one. Kinpatsu shot her a look before disappearing around the corner.

The silent footsteps that slowly made their way toward her immediately made her sour mood return. '_He wanted to separate us, huh. Sneaky bastard._' Satsuki thought as a blonde entered her line of vision.

The fierceness with which he's fought her back on Samba Island came to mind. He was completely focused and would've been happy to sever her head clean off her neck. He did manage to wound her and she ordered her ego to shut up.

'_Fuchisho Marco'_ her mind echoed. Whitebeard's first commander. The man who could take out legions if he put his mind to it. The man who currently stood next to her, hands in pockets. And having their earlier conversation playing on repeat in her head, well -

She refused to speak and faced the ocean, dismissing him.

"Gonna jump, yoi?"

"Want to get rid of me?" It slipped and she felt completely out of her depth. She never, in her twenty four years of life, met anyone who annoyed her as much as this man.

Marco regarded her.

"Now, both of us know it'd make the whole thing more pleasant." She heard him shuffle closer, facing the ocean, as well. A few minutes passed in silence, ocean waves gently lulling against the Moby Dick.

They both wanted to strangle the other, this weird animosity as natural as breathing for them. Yet, both thought at the same time, they had to follow their orders. And for now that meant no fighting less they spur a war. Sighing mentally, appreciating the falcon made the first step, she tried to be civil.

"You.. You're a bird." Satsuki tried as a way to start a conversation. She heard him straighten.

"A phoenix." Marco corrected.

"Same thing."

_Roger, she was insufferable._

"A bird doesn't regenerate nor absorbs attacks, yoi."

"Still a bird." She stated, unimpressed eyes calmly continuing to view the ocean, as if she wasn't just offending Whitebeard's right-hand man. Whitebeard – the man she just apologized to hours earlier, Marco recited.

"You looking for a fight, yoi?" She glanced at him.

"It's not my fault you suffer from misplaced information." He felt his eyebrow twitch.

"I'm making a conscious effort to let bygones be bygones, yoi."

"Letting bygones be bygones would imply I'd care about what happened."

"You're saying you don't feel bad for killing the major of Whitebeard's island?"

"I apologized for it, didn't I?"

"Yet you don't feel bad, yoi." Marco stated.

"What I'm saying is, I don't feel bad for killing someone who used children as his personal shields and sold them into slavery as a hobby." She replied scathingly.

Yes, she didn't feel bad for killing that scumbag who, when faced with his own existence being extinguished versus the one of the children, took the obvious choice for him. She remembered his wicked and selfish expression – no guilt whatsoever, as he pushed kids as a buffer to his front, screamed idiot at her for being sentimental and with a disgustingly stuck out tongue, meant to mock her, exited. He practically signed his death warrant with that.

"Ohh! There you are!" Marco heard Ace rush to them, clearly picking up on the heavy atmosphere and slapping his shoulder. "Why's there no sake in your hand, man?" Ace inquired nosily.

"I'm being a gentleman, yoi." Marco could swear he heard the woman snort. Yet, when he looked, she was still facing the ocean calmly.

"I see!" Ace grinned. "Oh! Ah.. erm – " Ace scratched his head, clearly trying to say something yet failing miserably at it. He wanted to address the woman –

Wait.

"What's your name, yoi?" He actually felt like a fool, not addressing the matter sooner. Shinobi didn't have wanted posters – their faces never showing anyway. Therefore he's never even heard of nor seen her. Ace slapped him again.

"I was trying to ask more nicely!" He whispered harshly, sake breath fanning Marco in the face.

"Yeah. You failed epically, yoi." Ace reddened.

"Satsuki."

They both blinked at that.

"So you were born in May?" Ace asked, an easy smile grating his face. Marco realised the woman – no, Satsuki, was more tempered in Ace's presence. Almost at peace, even. His eyes drilled a hole into the right side of her head.

"I don't know."

"What? How can you not know?" Ace sounded aghast, eyes budging out of their sockets.

Satsuki shrugged. "I just don't. Never knew, never will." Ace scratched his head.

"Then.. that is, your age – " She raised an eyebrow.

"Are you trying to ask a woman about her age?" He straightened, fire briefly appearing on his shoulders.

"No, Ma'am!" His arms scrambled in front of him. Satsuki stared for a minute, pushed off the railing and left them.

"I hope you've got some fruits on here..." Were her parting words before disappearing.

Marco and Ace just stared at each other.

"She's a handful, alright."

"My worst nightmare."

* * *

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If you liked it or have any suggestions; please leave a review :)


	3. Chapter 3

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* * *

Marco was leaning against a wall on their ship and observed the weather – this time a real storm was coming. He hummed to himself and felt slightly better. At least the weather matched his mood. The last day had been a challenge.

Acting friendly toward Satsuki was a hard nut to crack. That woman would sooner gut herself than let others know about her thoughts or planned actions.

"Zehahahaha!" The catchphrase of Teach's laugh made his eyes seek him out. He was laughing hard at something Thatch said.

"You know…" Marco withheld the urge to snap his head right, where now Satsuki stood. She apparently loved sneaking up on unsuspecting people. "We can, to some degree, sense auras." Marco raised an eyebrow.

"That man…" He watched Satsuki eye the back of Teach. " – is evil."

He wanted to laugh. Their silly Teach, who's never been serious in his whole life and always laughed at every little thing, was supposedly evil?

"You should replace your antenna, yoi." He felt her glare hit the left side of his skull.

"You'll regret it someday." She crossed her arms and looked at the ocean. Both stood for a moment in an easy silence before there were some heavy grunts and moans. Marco arched his neck and saw some of his mates heft barrels up the Moby Dick.

Provisions. The ship they sent to get them was back.

"Give them to me, yoi." His raised voice carried over and he started walking to his mates. He felt Satsuki shadow him. He refrained from a sigh.

"Ah.. Marco, sorry to bother you." One of his crewmates smiled apologetically. Marco didn't fault him. The barrels were one third the size of pops, they reached a little above Whitebeard's knees. Which meant those vessels practically reached that man's head.

"No worries, yoi." He smiled and lifted a barel with ease. After a few steps ahead he, again, felt Satsuki's presence next to him and he noticed she hefted one up, herself.

"Aren't you gonna break?" He teased. It was clear that would not be the case. She was walking slightly crouched but only because she didn't want the oval tank toppling down. She had no problem with the pace of her trek nor was she panting or sweating.

No wonder she kept up in their fight. That woman was built to bulldoze over grown men. Despite her angelic appearance. Marco actually snorted.

_Angelic. _What a joke. She couldn't be more devilish if she tried to.

They continued going forth and back, lifting barrels then carrying them to the lowest level of the Moby Dick and repeating the process. Around the third time they were glancing and observing each other. To the onlooker it seemed as if their eyes were shooting laser beams and those sizzles meeting in the middle of the trajectory? They zipped upon being pitted against each other.

"U-oh.." Ace commented, one leg bent against the railing, biting into a piece of meat.

Thatch sighed. "They're competing against each other."

Indeed, they were. By the sixth time they were racing to and from. Start being where the barrels stood and finish in the bed of the ship. Both grunted and glared at each other, slowly growing perspired.

"Oh man.." Thatch closed a hand over his face and shook his head slowly.

There was only one last barrel left.

Marco and Satsuki probably didn't realize it but both their haki clashed, releasing in waves and loud windy sounds. Some mate's mouths were stretched wide back by the force, teeth on display and jittery.

"Gurararara!" Whitebeard laughed from his perch next to the door. He drank sake, head tipped back. His legs were crossed at the ankles and he grinned as he gulped.

Satsuki grabbed the barrel and flicked it up. Marco immediately stood in front of her. She tried to sidestep, he blocked it. They were intensely trying to one-up another. Marco was slightly crouched, arms spread. He looked like some of those ball players who stood between the two posts marking the goal. Where the ball eventually landed. Satsuki straightened to her full height.

She looked up at him and forced a smile, even though she'd rather bang her head against a rock.

"Really, it's fine. I'll manage." He scowled and gripped the wood, despite her trying to outmanoeuvre him.

"Really, it's fine. Shut up." She tugged on the barrel harder and he held on even more firmer. They glared at each other.

"My. Ship. Yoi." Marco gritted out and felt a vein throb on his forehead. Satsuki held on for a minute longer in which they just stared into each other eyes.

She released the barrel with a huff but at the same time pushed it forcefully. Marco managed not to stumble and fall pathetically on his face. They resumed their glaring match even when Marco had his back to her, walking to the lowest level of the Moby Dick.

In the back Thatch and Ace sweat dropped.

"I'm kind of afraid of the next days." Ace scratched his head. "Maybe I should just take my boat and –" Thatch gripped Ace's shoulder before he could end his sentence and the fire-user faced the sky, wincing.

"Don't you dare." Thatch articulated each word.

Huh. Seemed they'd face hell together.

* * *

Marco spent the week studying.

He watched and learned everything the shinobi on his ship did. What they spoke of. How they moved. Analysing each and every of them. He wanted to take them apart and count their cells.

Especially Satsuki's.

Roger, she was hard to handle. Their first encounter setting the pace for the ones to follow. Each time they interacted they managed to rile the other up. Just as if they had to somehow get back at each other, since their fight hadn't reached the conclusion with one dead and the other a winner.

And if fists couldn't be utilized now, well, then words had to suffice. Now that he thought about how she fought him back on Samba Island, it wasn't that much of a surprise that the woman who managed to keep up with him would be nothing short of a hard-ass.

Brash, unforgivingly honest, unabashedly brutal.

Yet… he was curious. He managed to see a different side of her, too. The storm they lived through two days earlier coming to mind.

_"Listen to their orders and do what you're told!" Marco heard Satsuki yell and a chorus of affirmatives rolled around, the shinobi disappearing in search of people they could lend a hand to. Satsuki was focused, feet solid on the floorboard despite the abhorring, strong waves. The Moby Dick was swaying from its right to its left axis to the extreme. And she was sure-footed. He found it suspicious as heck._

_An unexpected, big-ass wave hit Marco and he felt embarrassed, being taken by surprise like that. The water of course, weakened him and the embarrassment worsened as he felt himself fall over deck and he really wanted to drown at that point anyway. If anyone had seen him just now, Whitebeard's first commander, slayed by water… _

_He hit the ocean and gurgled, eyes lolling to the back of his head. He managed to swim a little but the fight soon left him, completely paralyzed by the liquid. _

_A tug on his arm and he felt being slowly pulled upward. The surface greeted them and he sputtered. _

_"Good thing you're not unconscious. I'd hate giving you mouth-to-mouth." Satsuki's voice was at ease and - _

_She was smiling._

_It was in no way a full-out grin, her teeth didn't show. Nor an especially big smile either. It had the qualities of a smirk, really. But that tingle in her eye and amused tilt of her lip… It surprised him. Took him by surprise, actually._

_She hefted them back on deck, mindful of near-by eyes and had half a mind to put him behind a fallen mast. She was dripping wet as she crouched, one knee on the ground and blinked back and forth between his eyes._

_"Good. No concussion. On second thought, I don't think you're capable of getting one." She straightened and her eyes seemed to be amused. "I forgot you do have a weak-spot." Her voice was light as she left him. _

He hated himself for it but she sparked something inside of him at that moment. Some inner, deeper part of him.

"She's like a shadow." Ace appeared next to him, hand in his hair.

"Hm?" Marco asked, eyes on the woman currently eating on the deck. Satsuki was sitting cross-legged, a pitcher of water, a sandwich and some fruits neatly organized next to her. She seemed to hate being underdeck.

"I don't hear her footsteps when she moves, nearly shit myself yesterday." Ace's brow furrowed as he recalled the event.

"We'll be arriving tomorrow, yoi." Yes, and finally be rid of their passengers. The slight pang of something must be the unfulfilled need to fight her.

"Think there'll be some nice gals?" Ace wiggled his eyebrows.

"There probably will." Marco felt his shoulder getting slapped.

"Aw. You're no fun. Are you even getting laid, at all?" Ace nosily asked and got himself a bump in the head for that.

Marco started a slow trek across the deck, mulling Ace's words over. It was true, he didn't fuck often and it was high time he got some action. Perhaps there'll be some willing woman on that ninja island.

"What?"

He didn't realize his feet brought him to Satsuki. She held her sandwich in front of her mouth, interrupted before manging to take a bite. He plopped down, propping an arm on his knee and let his head lean into it.

"You're kind of amusing, yoi." He smiled and saw her eyes widen. It was a rare sight to see her express surprise or any emotion, at all. It definitely made her hate herself and his sadistic side rolled in glee.

She was clearly surprised at the change of pace, too and Marco wondered about that himself. Somewhere in the middle of this week they were forced to co-exist, the annoyment lifted like a heavy curtain, letting the sun in and curiosity awoke.

She looked suspiciously at him, chewing. She swallowed before talking, eyes not leaving his.

"Are you drunk?"

"We'll be docking in how long..?" He chanced a glance at the sun.

"An hour." She took a bite of the fruit. Marco stood, popping his back.

"See you." He raised an arm and left. With his back turned to her, he let the smirk loose.

She was entertaining and if he was honest with himself… about that thing Ace said…

Well.

…

..

.

The Shikage – as Marco discovered the leader of this island was called, stood on the shore, welcoming them. His pops jumped eagerly down, grinning at the black-haired man. They were evenly matched despite the physical difference. The Shikage was tall and build like a rock but pops was still bigger.

"Old friend." Whitebeard clasped hands with the man.

"I'm happy you made it." The leader of this island smiled.

For a moment, an air of remembrance took place. Both their minds took them to a faraway time, back when they were bickering and fighting and having drinking matches.

"We prepared a feast." The shinobi's eye wandered to the slightly uneasy crew.

Despite their captain's order to have a banquet and their initial joy, now that they were here.. well, they couldn't help but feel stiff.

The island's boss was flanked by Shinobi and even Marco was glad they were clad in usual tee's and pants. No black as night suits. He guessed it was ordered, their leader wanting to let their guests feel at ease.

Marco saw a swish enter his line of vision and watched Satsuki appear behind the Shikage.

"Mission accomplished, Shi-sama." She whispered yet Marco picked up on it. With his back to her form, the leader dismissed her and she stood, watching pops and her Kage walk away, both laughing about something. The man was pointing at buildings, no doubt explaining the town and the surrounding grounds.

They were good hosts.

With the exception of a few, Marco noted amusingly as he saw Satsuki walk ahead, back straight and obviously uncomfortable with them invading her home. The blonde she hung out with jogged up to her and she visibly relaxed. They did have each other backs, Marco mused. Back on Samba Island, back on his ship and here, too. Their relationship was a strong one, obviously build on years of acquaintance.

Satsuki soon disappeared from his view and he took in the traditional homes, the brick constructions, electricity poles, weirdly shaped roofs. Children looked adoringly up at them, pointing, a pirate being a rare sight for them.

The adults didn't let any unease show, smiling and nodding at them. Their leader accepted him and his crew and that meant they did, too. Yet, Marco noticed the barely there presences hiding in the shadows. They, no doubt, were clad in the standard black of their uniform.

* * *

He saw her sitting in the left corner of the bar, on one of the higher stools. Her blonde hair was spilled over her back and moving slightly as she surveyed the establishment with the eyes of a true Shinobi. A Shinobi that never let her guard down and calculated every outcome, or in this case, entries. Averting her gaze, she seemed to go back to the orange she was currently prying free from its skin.

A laughter trailed over most ears and Marco saw her eyeing the cause of it. Ace was laughing boisterously at something Thatch did, that apparently, made a kunoichi spill sake all over him. The second division commander lifted one lit finger threateningly and lazily raised an eyebrow, grinning widely, while his left hand was supporting his chin.

Marco saw something in those eyes Satsuki directed at Ace. It was an emotion, yet he couldn't place his finger on it. It definitely wasn't love – he all but snorted at the notion of having such a woman falling in love with someone, neither was it appreciation – because, despite being a man, Marco sure as hell saw how women eyed the ever-shirtless second commander. It was almost like –

"Marco!"

One eyebrow lifted in askance at Izo who was joyfully tripping around – no doubt sober, beer in hand. The one that was actively trying to gain his attention.

"What are you doing standing around on your own, look around! Aren't these kunoichi cute?"

Turning his head in their direction, as if on cue, they started kyya'ing and were those hearts in their eyes?

"It's Fushicho Marco!"

"Kya, he's even more handsome than on the wanted poster!"

"Think he'll transform if we ask nicely?"

They stood in a circle and discussed, asking rhetorical questions. Rhetorical, because he sure as hell wouldn't deign them with an answer. Or even acknowledge.

"Ladies, forget about this boring guy. Come and watch me – " Izo removed his gun from his sleeve and proceeded to aim at them, single eye focused on a pleasant chest and finger pulling slowly the trigger –

Only to be stopped by someone snapping his weapon in half, with a bare hand.

The roses he had stashed inside fell pitifully to the floor. Silence issued in their corner of the bar. Just theirs, because there was no way for the people to stop having a good time just because someone decided to intervene a clear pick-up move. Well, not as clear for everyone, apparently. The Whitebeard commanders and higher ups in the Shinobi ranks however, observed, ready for a stand-off if need be.

"Ohohoh, you saw right through me!" Izo cut through the silence, disarming the atmosphere and winked, producing yet another flower from the insides of his kimono. "For that – " He lowered his upper half, left arm extended " - you deserve this." and his right slowly inched forward to place the sunflower behind Satsuki's right ear.

The girls in the corner screamed with delight and started chanting the 16th commander's name, begging for more show-off'y tricks he had up his sleeve. Literally. He practically glided over to them, already a pair of girls attaching themselves on each arm.

Marco heard a sigh and looked at Satsuki who was already walking back to her stool.

Being the glutton for punishment that he was, Marco followed. Hearing the loud declarations of love and high-pitched screams of admiration, he couldn't help but think how easy it would be to get laid were he to choose one of them. No fight or bite at all. Civvies simply weren't his type.

Watching creamy legs cross and breasts slightly move with the force of an exhale, Marco thought of the ones he liked more; those kind of women who made men run in circles before letting them near even an inch of their skin. Leaning against the high bar, elbow expertly placed close to Satsuki's arm, he smirked.

"Now that was awkward."

"Here for a beating?"

"I'd like to see you try, yoi."

She avoided any and all eye-contact, focus on her juicy fruit. He watched her lips squeeze the insides right off it, tongue darting out to catch any wayward drops, before placing the dry-sucked shell onto a handkerchief, together with the ones that came before.

"Watch out or your lookies will fall out." He raised an eyebrow. Who knew she had humour? He leaned conspiratorially down before whispering, only for her to hear.

"I'll gladly go blind if it means I get to watch you suck something else off with that single minded attitude of yours, yoi."

Her north-blue eyes cut straight to his.

Around them, Shinobi and Whitebeards alike sung along, drank, and exchanged stories. Everyone was a part of the same team at that moment. They shared each laugh, joke and silly behaviour. The two of them however, their focus was exclusively on one another.

Satsuki smirked, averting her gaze back to the half-eaten orange slices and cutting the thick atmosphere.

"Careful or I'll take you up on that, old man."

"Older, not old." He corrected, a grin threatening to break free.

Satsuki shrugged. "What's the difference?"

She felt him lean in, her mind acutely aware of the distance between them.

"Older means I'm experienced enough to make you come repeatedly." Satsuki was sitting ramrod straight, not one word fazing her. "Whereas old means death." She raised an eyebrow.

"No action, no life." He remarked offhandedly.

She seemed to roll her eyes, yet thought better of it. "Men."

He leaned his head on his right arm that was now sturdily placed against the bar. Satsuki saw his muscles flex and a vein show from the corner of her eye.

"Aren't we nice?"

Now she really did roll her eyes, he observed with mirth. He saw her strongly focus on the thoughts that were running through her golden head.

"At a loss of words?"

She glared from behind her lashes at Marco, no doubt wanting nothing more than to shove his face into the dirt.

"Taichou!" The one called Kinpatsu yelled, the smell of booze around him. He slammed himself into Satsuki, not even making her stool move. He must've felt her aggravation from a mile away and came to aid her, Marco decided.

"What is it?" She gruffly replied, taking a sip.

Kinpatsu pouted. "Aw, come on! I thought you'd be happy to see me!"

"I see you every day. I'm sick of you."

Marco heard him slam onto his fours, a black veil of mourning surrounding him.

"Taichou's cruel.." He murmured, drawing imaginative circles with his pointer on the floor.

Satsuki sighed. Marco chuckled beside her and she must have realised he'd been watching their exchange intently, trying to gauge their relationship. When he raised an eyebrow in challenge at her, he saw her tense. Her jaw jutted out and she closed her eyes.

"If you're going to be drunk off your ass tonight you better hide yourself from me in the morning."

She instead directed her ire at her partner. He was her right hand as she was his. Despite Kinpatsu's childish behaviour. Though both knew that if something were to happen he'd sober immediately up and they'd face their enemy together, united in every and all move. They didn't train everyday together for nothing.

He immediately stood.

"Aye, aye!" he shouted, then sauntered off.

"We're not even pirates." She murmured, nursing her choice of drink. Suddenly Marco's face was too close to Satsuki's and he noted with delight how her muscles twitched minimally. After a second she must've realized he was only sniffing her beverage and made herself go lax.

"As I thought, yoi." He replied, backing off. Marco motioned for the poor bartender, who was by the way a mess after tonight, to come over. "Get her something strong, yoi." He ordered. The older man wandered off, nodding and jotting his order down into his insanely thin notebook. It was definitely thicker most of the days.

"Pretty things such as you shouldn't be drinking water, darlin'." He said as he placed the booze in front of her.

"What's that?" She asked, sounding annoyed he dared to buy her something.

"A peace offering." He couldn't help the quirk that moved the corner of his lip higher. It seemed to rush there each time she said something. God, this game was addicting.

Satsuki didn't appear to be fazed at all and instead swiped it right back to his side of the bar.

"I don't drink alcohol." Marco's brows raised. Then, a minute later, realisation dawned on him and that lazy smile of his took residence again.

"Always ready for a fight, I see."

Marco felt her hackles rise, yet expertly let it not interfere with her facial structure. "We're basically in a fight already. The only thing we haven't done yet, is throw fire at the alcohol glued to this place." Marco didn't let the thought of fire coming out of her mouth register.

"Let's fight. Between the sheets that is, yoi."

This time it was Satsuki who eyed him languidly. Closing the distance between them she made sure he felt her hot lips brush the outside of his ear.

"You wouldn't be able to keep up, birdie." Marco felt blood rush to his groin, he didn't even acknowledge her jab at him.

Standing closer he made sure to cover her with his whole frame when he placed his hand on the inside of her thigh and squeezed. Hard. Her sharp gaze cut to his and he wanted to shove her out the door and take her in the next alley. Release all this pent-up frustration since their bickering didn't manage to. They had to get each other out of their systems.

"Careful, or I'll bite." She replied frostily, despite that she allowed her leg to open wider. He thanked her for her generosity by inching higher.

"I'd fucking love it."

Marco wasn't an overly expressive man, it'd be a miracle if he raised an eyebrow at someone more than once a week, or even acknowledged the majority of shit his mates were up to on their good days, but when it came to sex, he let it all go. It was his outlet and the woman before him just happened to have egged him on repeatedly these last days. Not to mention their fight. He realized he met a challenge and far be it from Marco to let it slip by. He was one for opportunities after all, and if someone said this wasn't the best kind, then they probably never felt a feisty woman's pussy clench.

He saw her shallow breathing, the slow rise and fall of her round breasts, which weren't the biggest he's seen, in fact, she wasn't even the most beautiful woman he's had the displeasure to meet. She wasn't his kind of tall; the top of her head barely coming up to his collar-bone. He felt a thrill shoot through him when he thought about the punch she could pack.

Satsuki's body didn't look like she had several of her ribs removed, her hips didn't jut out but she was curvaceous if anything. Her clothes didn't reveal much; she liked to keep her cards close to her. Her blonde hair reached the middle of her back, full lips he's yet to taste, a nose that matched her face and blue eyes.

"North-blue." He whispered. Back when he was a kid his favourite place to watch and observe was the ocean. And in his forty years of life he's yet to see more mesmerizing and astonishing water than the one that surveyed the North-Blue. When the sun hit at the right angle, he could see the sea shimmer in delight; it looked like the water was adorned with tiny diamonds, only, if you tried to pluck them, they were already gone. Out of your sight.

"Wanna play?" He grinned, not at all fazed by the fact that his face was the one of a predator, a predator which was seconds away from catching its prey.

And to him she looked like his favourite meal.

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Yep, you guessed right, it's gonna get hot 'n here :)

You like? You review :D


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